As they round the last corner
The crowd goes wild
But all the horse hears
Is the soft voice
Telling it to go faster
And all that it feels
Is the loose flying dirt
And the man on its back
Urging it forward
Pass one and another
They move up to the front
Over the finish line they go
A tug on the reins
The horse slows down
A bouquet of roses is placed
Around the sturdy neck
And as the trophy is given
All the jockey remembers
Is the wonderful ride
And the hooves of thunder